


Captain Melancholia

by everythingispoetry



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Friendship, Invasion, M/M, Mind Control, Politics, Pre-Slash, Saving the World, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingispoetry/pseuds/everythingispoetry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>There’s someone else, someone hidden, also observing these people.  Steve can feel it, even if no one else seems to. There is a constant weight on his back, as if an invisible hand on his shoulders.</em><br/>Someone is trying to take over the world and Steve seems to be the only one to realize but there is nothing he can do, so he leaves. A few weeks later Tony finds him in the middle of nowhere and says he has a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captain Melancholia

**Author's Note:**

> [Here you can see the amazing artwork by Gabbi](http://gabbi.livejournal.com/42759.html). Thank you for inspiration!
> 
> Thank to Quaxo for beta :)

 

Is it two years after Steve’s unfreezing – so he can say he is pretty used to the reality around him – when he wakes up one June morning and all of sudden, everything feels _wrong_. There isn’t anything particular, it’s just a gut feeling. Steve has learned to trust those, so he silently swears to proceed with caution; he needs to find out what is happening and why, and preferably talk about it with the other Avengers.

For now, as long as he can’t pinpoint the problem, he just needs to be extra careful.

Two hours later, when Steve is his apartment, done with his morning workout, he decides what the problem is: he feels as if someone was watching him. It’s not the constant presence of cameras all around or people’s stares whenever he is in Captain America uniform, this is something much more subtle, hidden, and unsettling.

Steve spends the day doing reckon during his usual activities: drawing, reading, working out some more, cooking, eating, and walking in the Central Park. It’s a beautiful sunny day, Saturday afternoon, there are kids with parents everywhere, talking and laughing and running around. Couples are holding hands. Some cars are honking in the background.

There’s someone else, someone hidden, also observing these people.  Steve can _feel_ it, even if no one else seems to. There is a constant weight on his back, as if an invisible hand on his shoulders.

Steve buys an ice cream, three scoops of chocolate flavor. He finds a free spot on one of the benches in the sun and sits down. When he is done with the ice cream and the perfect crunchy chocolate-dipped cone, he takes out his mini sketchbook: it’s _On the Road_ from Penguin notebooks collection. He has all of them. A Christmas gift present from a girl he used to date. It didn’t work out. It never does.

He doodles, trying to capture random little snippets of the day, but every now and then he seemingly carelessly looks around, as if he was trying to find someone in the crowd. Maybe he _is_ trying to find someone, he isn’t sure.

The feeling doesn’t disappear.

 

 

The next morning, Steve wakes up and _the feeling_ is still there.

He goes to S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ. It’s Sunday but it doesn’t matter, the agency doesn’t care about things as petty as Sundays or holidays.

'Hello,’ Steve greets Natasha and Clint as he enters the gym. It’s ten past seven so most agents are in the canteen, eating breakfast, it is the pair’s ritual to spar after the newest recruits and before everyone else.

They don’t stop fighting, but Steve never expected them to, he just thinks it’s polite to announce his presence. Tony would probably say he is being old-fashioned again, but Steve has had enough time to come to terms with being old-fashioned. It is better than trying to fool himself that he will become one of the 21st century people; he can adapt, yes, but there are some differences that can’t be ignored, some habits that cannot be changed.

Maybe twenty minutes later the round is finished. There will be one more, Steve knows, with some audience in athletic uniforms waiting for the two assassins to finish before they even attempt to start training themselves.

Steve waits patiently. It’s pure enjoyment, observing those two fight, it’s like watching a beautiful and deadly dance, practiced to perfection. Steve himself, even with the Serum in his veins, can only dream about that kind of grace and agility; he has been mostly gifted with strength and speed.

When they are done, Steve gives them time to shower and change into day-clothes. There is no hurry. It’s been two years but he still doesn’t have any other job that being an Avenger and occasionally helping S.H.I.E.L.D. with one op or another. He works out, studies history and culture, meets with people, spends a whole lot of time around the HQ, talks to agents and spars with them, rides his bike fast and angrily – and occasionally fights the bad guys.

Taking his time allows Steve get a better grasp of what is happening. The answer is simple: nothing. Nothing special is happening. The agents talk and laugh and argue as they start their gym-time. Nothing special.

There is still the silent presence around. Steve pretends he can’t feel it.

Natasha and Clint go to the canteen to get some food; there is always something saved for late incomers. Steve ate a big breakfast before so he declines their invitation to join in.

‘I’ll just get a soda,’ he tells them and indeed grabs a can of Coca Cola. He shares that much of an American spirit with the new century: everyone loves sweet carbonated drinks.

‘So, what’s up, Cap?’ Clint asks between the bites of his scrambled eggs.

‘Not much,’ Steve replies casually. Maybe he is being a bit paranoid, but he actually is waiting for something to happen, for someone to say… something. Anything. ‘The usual,’ he adds. ‘Lazy summer, so perfect that you just wait until Doctor Doom comes up with something.’

Clint and Natasha both chuckle at the joke. Clint grins. Natasha’s eyes are shining. 

Steve knows that if anyone noticed something is off it would be those two, or Director Fury, but he is out of the country for a few weeks. Moreover, they’d come up with some code phrases that just the team member know, just in case they were ever in a situation where they couldn’t speak freely, but no one mentions anything. Surely, if there were something going on they’d tell him as team leader, wouldn’t they?

They talk for half an hour before Clint and Natasha have to go to a brief for their next mission, somewhere in Africa. Steve says goodbye and leaves the headquarters to spend the next few hours wandering around the neighborhood. He gets another ice cream on his way back to the apartment – the sun is still shining mercilessly, making everyone walk on the shady sides of the streets and hide in air-conditioned shops and cafés.

Back at home he calls Bruce and Tony, but neither of them answers. That’s not good.

It takes Steve a few more days to figure things out. When he finally manages to talk to Tony, Tony doesn’t mention _anything_ being wrong. Steve is quite sure that JARVIS would let him know if there was any kind of a problem that could be detected by his sensors that could be noticed. Neither the inventor nor the A.I. mention anything and that is what gives Steve a clue.

He thinks that he just might be going insane, maybe he’s imagining those eyes observing him from behind that make him fake sleep and stay awake all night, listening closely to the still silence around. Maybe it’s just paranoia in his mind –

– _in his mind_.

Then Steve puts it together: everything has been so _normal_. Everything has been just as he expects it to be. There have been no surprises within the last few days, nothing’s changed; there’s no random new items on Tony’s desk and Clint’s been telling the same weird jokes.

Oh. _Oh._

This is bad.

Steve really doesn’t want to let himself think this, but it’s the only explanation: someone is mind-controlling everyone around him. Possibly the whole city. Or the whole country. Or maybe the whole world, Steve thinks, but he manages to push that thought away because it is a bit too much, even for _seventy years later_.

The eyes are everywhere. It makes sense. It also makes Steve’s skin crawl.

He goes to HQ, to the gym, to his favorite shops and cafés and all other places he can think of. Everyone acts casually, without a break from _normal_. Cars are driving frantically, there are shouts and fights and hugs, Times Square still colorful with ads, the subway still full of weird people. Everyone plays their role.

Steve can’t sleep.

The eyes are everywhere and Steve _knows_ he is not insane to be thinking that, but if it continues like this he might as well be, and soon.

Two weeks pass and Steve pretends because there is nothing he can do. He trains and talks and reads books and listens to music. He eats ice cream ~~and~~ takes walks, cycles, drives his old bike, and observes.

He figures he can give it some time, whatever it is, maybe someone will snap out of the trance, but no one ever says anything and Steve is only assured then that they are all controlled. All but him. He doesn’t understand this at times, he doesn’t know what to do, who to turn to. He has been trained for physical fighting, not mental attack, cyber games ~~and~~ or mind control.

Steve uses their code words for a seriously messed-up situation and it’s then when the people act out of character for the first time: they don’t react. Normally they would, there are at least thirteen plans in case, but everyone ignored Steve’s attempts to discuss the situation.

Time passes, nothing changes. There are no answers. He is scared.

Four weeks after it starts, with a heavy mind and ashamed of himself, Steve disappears from New York.

 

 

It takes him three days to find himself in the middle of a semi-desert, in an abandoned house by an old road that is used by maybe five cars a day – and ultimately leaves to nowhere.

He visits a few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents he is acquainted with in Virginia, but it is an exact repetition of what has been happening with Natasha and Clint.

The unsettling feeling. The _perfect_ normalcy.

Steve doesn’t let himself see anyone after that, avoiding giving clues to whoever is the mastermind of this situation. He doesn’t even have suspicions.

He has a duffle filled with canned food, a few clothing items, including Captain America costume and the shield, and books and sketchbooks. The phone and all other electronic items were left in a roadside bar in Kentucky where he was eating dinner two days ago.

There is no one around, so at least the feeling of the eyes watching him is – well, not gone, but much less noticeable. Steve doesn’t have any illusions about hiding for a long time; whoever is behind all of this must do it for a reason. And so far nothing has happened, which still means caution.

He hates being on alert all the time. It’s like being on the front line again: sleeping for short periods of time, unconsciously minding anything unexpected, especially sounds, body waiting to move and attack. There isn’t a bed or a sofa in the house so sleeping on the floor, with rolled jacket under his head, is be another reminder of the war.

Steve has no information and no way to obtain information, so all he does is wait. 

 

 

There is a lot of time to kill and Steve reads books.

It’s probably highly inappropriate to read a book when he is in the middle of a surreal scenario of being the only conscious person in the world but after two days he’s had enough of making himself sick with too much thinking.

Kurt Vonnegut is something he is not sure he gets, even if _Cat’s Cradle_ is a far-fetched but scarily applicable metaphor of Steve’s own situation.

 

 

Iron Man finds Steve two weeks later.

‘You are hard to find, Cap,’ he states, sighing, but his voice is distorted by the synthesizer.

‘That’s kind of the point,’ Steve replies, mixing the beans he is cooking on a campfire. It is evening and the sun is almost touching the horizon, its burning rays gone leaving the heat cumulated in the earth underneath Steve’s bare feet; it’s almost too hot to walk but Steve doesn’t mind. He enjoys the heat, no matter how strong it is, simply because he has been frozen for so long that anything that’s not ice is perfect.

‘I take it you know what has been going on,’ Tony states. He is still in full armor. Steve narrows his eyes a bit. ‘Oh. I _see_ you do know. Don’t worry, this really is me,’ he adds, taking the helmet off; for a second there Steve is analyzing his options: the shield is two meters away on his left, the gun in his back pocket, the knife he used to open the can still in his hand…

At this point he can expect almost everything – but it’s Tony, it’s Tony’s tired face under the faceplate.

Steve lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding but doesn’t take his eyes off the man.

‘How do I know –’

‘That I am me? You don’t, Capsicle,’ Tony laughs, it’s a deep hoarse sound. ‘You can’t believe me as long as you think that it would be totally normal of me to come to the middle of nowhere, completely alone, looking for you. Or well, maybe that would be what I would do because I know you are the only person but me on the planet who still has their own free will left, it would be logical of me to come… That’s what everyone is doing, right? Acting predictable. Acting like you would expect them to, only that no one can foresee the little unexpected things that make the world real, so tell me, would you expect me to move my ass down here and hunt you across the _sunset-painted plains_ –’

‘You are just as confusing as the normal Tony,’ Steve sighs, taking the can with the beans off the flame and pouring the contents into a flower-painted ceramic bowl he found in the house. ‘If I ask you if you’re being mind controlled, you’ll just say ‘no’ even if you are,’ Steve sighs again. There is nothing he can do. ‘Why are you here, really?’

‘I was sent to look for you,’ Tony replies, sitting down next to Steve on the old bench. Steve is actually surprised it doesn’t break under the weight of the two of them plus the armor. ‘Red Skull says hello,’ Tony adds and Steve almost drops the bowl with his dinner.

‘Wasn’t that fucker _dead_?!’ he exclaims into his beans, wrapping his fingers around the spoon so tightly that it almost gets deformed.

‘Well, you certainly are the Cap of Free Mind, since no one would believe that Captain America can swear,’ Tony laughs, ignoring Steve’s outburst.

Steve has no idea if he should believe this Tony, but the argument _for_ yes is that the creepy feeling of being observed is still diminished. But it could be because Steve is _expecting_ Tony to observe him closely and scrutinize all his movements… the future is damn complicated. World War Two, there was no time for these games. Steve feels strange every time he realized he misses it.

The future, more than anything, is _tiring_.

Whenever a villain tries to use mind control, Tony was always the one who was unaffected; it has something to do with Arc Reactor in his chest, but Steve doesn’t know the details. Neither Loki nor that green monster or Doctor Doom managed to take control of his head. It’s a plausible reason to think that Tony is indeed _free_.

It’s all Steve can count on.

‘Okay,’ he finally says around a spoonful of baked beans. ‘So you say Red Skull sent you – how the hell does _that_ work? Is he back from the dead? _Why_ would he send you in the first place? Why _you_?’

‘Because he thinks we are friends and that you would trust me,’ Tony replies mockingly, but his eyes are serious. ‘He has everyone I have ever cared about under his control – don’t look that shocked, you must have realized it’s a global issue when you contacted Director Fury while the Helicarrier was still over the Indian Ocean. Well. He can kill them all with one movement of his pinkie. With one command. So I thought I could play along and he thinks he has me, but he doesn’t.’

‘Mhm,’ Steve murmurs tiredly, quickly swallowing the last of his beans and messaging his temples slightly. There is no physical headache but it feels wrong, as wrong as every injury to his body that disappears after short hours instead of weeks. His head should be aching, his mind should be protesting, but no, he is okay and full of energy. Ready to deal with whatever HYDRA cooked up this time.

‘Also, because he thinks I could bring you to him even if you didn’t believe me. Either way he wins,’ Tony continues, playing with the helmet in his hands, making it spin on his forefinger; he seems to find the balance naturally.

‘What does he want? And what do we do now?’ Steve asks, moving to get some tea. He offers a glass to Tony, but Tony refuses, shaking his head slightly.

‘He wants _you_ , as far as I know,’ Tony admits. ‘He also wanted me to build him a Vita-Ray machine.’

That makes Steve’s blood freeze.

‘ _What?_ ’

‘You heard me. I did it.’

‘ _Hell,_ Tony why would you – oh. You had to act, right? It’s not actually going to work? Wait wait wait – he has the serum?’

‘He seems to have the serum, yes, I haven’t seen it myself. But he claims it will work if he has Vita-Ray. So I built the machine, no other choice, play along, that kind of thing. I’m not sure what the expects the results to be, since he is a crippled monster at the moment, but who knows. He might become another Captain America or he might become a more deadly creepy red monster.’

‘The serum enhances what you are,’ Steve murmurs, a shiver running down his spine.

‘Well, yeah, more deadly creepy red monster then… But I’ve got a backdoor,’ he notices Steve’s unsure look and adds, ‘he thinks that if we bounce the ray off vibranium, like Howard did, it’s going to make the Vita-Ray more potent. He is right. That’s why we need to install two pieces, one vibranium and one made of a special glass fiber I created that ~~t~~ will filter the beam… So that it’s only gonna kill him, there is a quasi-scientific explanation to that, it’s a mess and I’ll spare you that… But I need – your shield for that. For him,’ Tony adds quietly.

Steve breathes in and breathes out and breathes in again.

Of course no one but the Avengers and maybe three other people knows that Tony’s Arc Reactor’s core is vibranium.

And it would mean – no. Steve doesn’t even want to think about what ifs.

‘Are you sure about that?’ Steve asks, his voice hushed. Somehow it seem fitting, with the darkness encompassing them slowly, last red and orange rays glowing on west. The fire is dying, too, casting strange shadows on their faces.

‘I am,’ Tony assures Steve fiercely. ‘And besides, we don’t have anything else we can try. He is… stronger, I would say. I’m not sure both of us together could take him down, the way he is now. I have no idea what he did, or how he did it, but he is so much more than I have expected from Howard and yours tales…’

 ‘Well,’ Steve shrugs. It is strange, but he doesn’t feel particularly scared. He does feel somehow terrified because well, if they screw up, that abomination will have control of the world, _just like that_ , but it’s not being _scared_. He and Tony have that in common: they can be foolishly brave. ‘Let’s do it?’

‘Good to have you, Cap,’ Tony smiles, patting Steve’s back awkwardly. ‘Besides, why did you just – run? No attempting heroics this time?’

‘Was there something I could do, by myself? I couldn’t contact anyone with more resources, I didn’t know if any of you were _free_ , everyone was – felt – strange,’ Steve explains  wearily as he stands up. The fire is almost gone now, only couple of embers are still red and warm. The ground still feels hot when Steve walks towards the house, even if the first waves of cooler air seem to encompass their arms and necks.

‘Point taken,’ Tony agrees. ‘Wow, no electricity?’ he asks as they step into the house and Steve lights a candle waiting on the table. He just gives Tony an _are you stupid_ look because they really are in the middle of nowhere. Steve is in fact lucky there is an old well that still has some water at the bottom.

‘We can sleep? I mean, it can wait till morning, right?’

‘He gave me 48 hours. Of course I needed five to actually find you and two three get here, but it didn’t seem important to tell him that. It wouldn’t be like me to tell him that.’

‘Well, yeah,’ Steve chuckles in agreement. ‘Can you really promise me you are Tony?’

‘You know me, mind-control-proof, all the jazz… but no. Of course I can’t. Can you?’

Steve shakes his head for no and laughs, his voice echoing in the mostly empty room.

‘You have to sleep on the floor,’ he informs Tony, laying down and adjusting is makeshift pillow.

‘Fuck you, Rogers,’ Tony murmurs, letting the suit unwrap itself and leaving it by the wall. ‘How am I supposed to fight a villain after a night spent on the floor?’ 

Steve smirks, his eyes closed. That is the Tony he wants here.

 

 

Iron Man flies Steve a good few miles until they get to a jet. Of course Tony would think of everything: how do you get around fastest, barring the suit because it’s only comfortable for one-person travel? StarkJet. Steve isn’t surprised at all, not anymore.

It’s four hours before they land in the hangar in the Stark Tower; it has been adapted months ago to have landing space for jets as the Avengers use them all the time; not everyone can jump out of a window and be in D.C. in half an hour.

‘How am I not surprised _he_ is in your tower?’

‘Maybe because this is the only place with the only person on the planet who can construct something as complicated and forgotten as early 40s magical Vita-Ray machine?’ Tony replies, jumbling the words together a bit.

Of course he’s nervous, who wouldn’t be? Steve was at first, but now he’s moved on to a feeling of calm dread that makes him totally controlled and rational, his mind clearer than ever.

They don’t have a specific plan because it can’t be prepared; the crucial thing is just a moment. A second. One detail. Red Skull will need to install the vibranium piece and it needs to be directly covered with the glass fiber disc. Tony has to manage to get that done after the vibranium piece is placed inside the machine and before Red Skull presses the _on_ button – he is not that dumb to let JARVIS or anyone else remotely control the device – and it’s Steve’s job to keep Skull somehow occupied between those two actions.

‘He’s in the penthouse,’ Tony adds, his tentative voice cutting through Steve’s thoughts. ‘Everything is in the penthouse. He said he doesn’t want to hide in a closed space like my workshop, immediately after he turns into _the greatest being ever_ he wants it to be public. With audience. It’s like super villains have decided that my tower is the best stage for drama, seriously, after Loki and that blue guy a few months ago…’

Steve just nods. He knows Tony loves chit-chat, Steve had to order him to cut the gossip enough times during the missions when Tony’s voice was in everyone’s comms, ranting about one thing or another.

All of this is surreal and anticlimactic and Steve _hates_ is. He can’t stop thinking that it’s only a bad dream and he will wake up with a start. But it’s been… heck, it’s been almost two months and he is still living in this reality.

Well, if he _is_ dreaming, then he’ll have hell of a story to tell and laugh about later.

Wishful thinking.

‘Ready?’ Tony asks when they step into the private elevator that goes directly to Tony’s workshop and the penthouse only.

There are people in the building, Steve knows, they discussed it, but no once can be evacuated. Even if there was an evacuation signal, Red Skull could make them do whatever he wants; Steve tried to argue but it was a lost cause. His only reassurance is that there are several empty floors between the highest office level and the penthouse itself.

‘I preferred the 40s,’ Steve had told Tony when they got on the jet. Tony laughed.

‘You would,’ he agreed and sat at the controls.

Steve can’t keep that thought out of his mind as the elevator goes up. Back then everything was much more authentic. Everything was calmer. Even the food tasted better because it was familiar.

And he would have had ten more minutes to prepare himself internally going up the stairs.

It is late afternoon and the penthouse is filled with soft warm light, shining straight through the glass panel wall, casting long shadows. It’s a scenography more appropriate for a romantic movie than a sci-fi horror. The dissonance that has somehow become Steve’s life makes him feel phantom pain all over.

‘Hello hello,’ someone says from the far end of the room as soon as Tony and Steve step out of the elevator. ‘ _Captain America,’_ Red Skull adds in his thick accented voice.

‘Long time no see, Schmidt,’ Steve replies politely, taking a few steps ahead. His eyes are everywhere at once and he is carefully cataloguing everything around – but just as Tony said, it doesn’t seem that something has changed. Other than the presence of the HYDRA mastermind, and the machine he is standing next to. It doesn’t look like the one Steve had to be enclosed within, Tony explained that: Skull is a bit of a cyborg now and he needs a single ray to distribute the energy of the Vita-Ray through his body.

Steve would have expected something more… spectacular of a situation that, if unresolved, will condemn the whole humanity. The whole world. To miserable existence as slaves.

Of course it can’t last forever, nothing lasts forever – wasn’t that in one of those songs Steve missed and when he listened to it he decided he was better off without knowing it? – but Steve can’t even begin to imagine how it might end.

‘Much less bravado that when we met last time, I see,’ Red Skull drawls, coming out of the shadowed part of the apartment and slowly approaching Steve and Tony. He is wearing a HYDRA uniform with distinctions and medals pinned to it. The red face of a monster is not hidden, but he doesn’t have any reason to hide. ‘What are you going to do now, Captain? I orchestrated – _this_ ,’ Skull adds, spreading his arms wide and starting to circle around the two men.

‘I must admit it’s pretty impressive and incredibly insane, Skull –’ Steve starts, his eyes following the monster’s movements.

‘I know. You were acting pretty confused for some time down there,’ Skull says before Steve can finish and then laughs. Steve shivers inwardly at the low inhuman sound. ‘So were you having fun realizing that I’ve got all of them and that there is no one you can ask for help, no one you can rely on, no one else but you?’

‘Not really, no,’ Steve states, glancing unconsciously at Tony who is standing silent behind him.

‘Oh, how _sweet_ ,’ Skull comments, noticing the subtle glance. ‘How fantastic. You actually thought I didn’t take your precious Iron Man into consideration? A man who, as I have learned from some files that were ridiculously easy to hack, immune to previous attempts at mind-control? I am not stupid, Captain. In addition to myself, I’ve got the best minds of this world working for me,’ he says, lowering his voice so that it’s only a tone above whisper, making chills run down Steve’s spine despite how warm the sun-filled room is.

‘I have no reason to be afraid of you, Skull,’ Steve declares, bracing himself for some kind of  attack but it doesn’t come.

Instead, Tony takes the shield delicately out of Steve’s grasp and stands next to Skull. Steve narrows his eyes a bit but Tony offers him an almost unnoticeable nod.

‘Stark, how long is it going to take to cut out the piece we need for the Vita-Ray?’

‘No longer than fifteen minutes. I need my machines started and when they are ready, it’s just a few moments.’

‘Good. Leave the suit here,’ Skull orders and Tony obeys silently. Skull kicks the metal armor into the far corner of the room as if it was nothing, then takes a gun out of a holster attached to his belt and shoots at the armor and – the mini explosion makes half of it _melt_. ‘You won’t need it.’

‘Of course,’ Tony agrees and disappears with the shield.

For the next twelve minutes, because that’s how long it ultimately takes Tony to get the vibranium ready, Red Skull talks, keeping the weapon trained on Steve’s chest.

Steve is breathing heavily and he’s all sweaty, but he keeps himself together. Somehow. He has no idea how. Well, at the moment he is still not entirely sure if what is happening is really happening.

He is going to die, isn’t he? And the waiting is worse than anything.

Skull knows it and enjoys every second of it.

‘What you did slowed me down, of course, but no one is able to stop me,’ he finally says, after boastfully offering Steve the whole story of his _rebirth._ Yet another one. ‘It’s so sweet to have you here now,’ he adds and a moment later Tony comes in holding the metal piece, colored white and blue, and offers it to Skull. He is all sweaty and flushed; Steve can only imagine what kind of force and heat must be necessary to cut _vibranium_. Only Tony could figure something like that out.

‘I will keep it,’ Skull says and puts the disc into his pocket.

That’s not what Steve and Tony expected.

‘Of course,’ Tony says and takes a few steps back, leaning against one of the window, his body casting a long shadow glowing orange.

The remains of sun ~~rays~~ are still caressing Steve’s skin.

‘Before I incapacitate you, before I become _more_ than you or anyone else before, let me have some – _fun_ ,’ Skull spits the word with satisfaction and a second alter he is behind Steve, cuffing his hands before Steve realizes what is happening he falls onto the floor as a seizure runs through his body. Steve can  recognize electric shocks easily.

It hurts, it hurts so much but Steve’s body heals almost instantly because the damage is more painful than harmful, at least for now.

‘What –’ he utters before he almost bites off his tongue as another shock wave hits him, then he keep his mouth wisely shut, trying his best not to moan or whimper. He _can’t_ give Skull the satisfaction. He has been through so much and he can’t now – he _can’t._

So he keeps his teeth gritted and it hurts, but that’s the price for dignity and he is willing to pay it.

‘Can’t mar your pretty face,’ Skull whispers into his ear. ‘Pointless. I need you looking like the perfect American you are, when you will be my serving me in front of the whole world and they will be sure you are _willing_ and _happy_ to obey my command.’

Steve grunts in response but doesn’t actually say anything.

It goes on _forever_ , at least it feels that way, Steve doesn’t know for sure because his mind is clouded; all that he know is that Tony is still where he was, unmoving, and that the sun disappeared and there is some unspoken cold sneaking up on Steve.

It goes on forever and Steve doesn’t moan even once, even though it costs him all self-control he can muster.

 

 

‘You ceased to amuse me, Captain,’ Skull states finally. Steve can’t say how much time has passed; the sky has changes into black and starry a long while ago. He kicks Steve in the stomach before sneering is disgust, then walks up to the sofa and takes his cloak off.

‘Move it, Stark,’ he snarls, walking up to the machine. Tony gets up from where he’s been sitting on the floor and follows the man.

Steve’s vision, clouded yet a moment ago, starts to clear slowly and he feels what he can imagine people sentenced to death must feel like: _this is the end,_ he thinks, it too is a song and this one Steve actually liked but it doesn’t matter – Tony watches Red Skull placing the vibranium disc inside the machine and then nods approvingly. Then takes a few steps away and stands in front of the control panel while Skull is one step away from the machine.

‘Tony, do it! –’ Steve exclaims because _fuck¸_ Tony is _not_ _doing_ anything, he hasn’t done anything and he could have just pressed the disc and when the core was at his fingertips and now Skull is going to press the button any moment –

Tony _laughs._

‘None of what I told you is true, of course,’ the man offers with a smile, turning around to have last look at the control panel on the machine. Then he nods to Skull. ‘It’s really disheartening how naïve you are, _Cap_ ,’ he adds with a smirk and Steve freezes, if a person laying limply on a floor can freeze.

Oh god.

And he thought – he believed – it was so – he –

 _Oh._ _God._

He fucking deserves death by the hands of this maniac, Steve decides in a split of a second, for being such a fool, there was never any disc and there never will, Skull will be zapped with the Ray any moment now, as soon as he is satisfied with how he outsmarted Captain America. And Steve _trusted_ Tony with his life – with lives of everyone on the planet – and there is nothing he can do now because even if he stops the Vita-Ray machine from being switched on he is just one man and the whole world – the whole world is –

‘So you won,’ Steve hears his own voice cut through the fog in his mind. Skull is a step away from the machine. Steve has no idea _why_ he is doing this, but if he is going to die then he won’t die as a whimpering coward. ‘So you think you won, because you’ve got everyone under your thumb and maybe you are crazy enough to think that this is a way to rule the world, with slavery and mind-control. But it’s only an illusion. You’re a smart guy, aren’t you, Skull?’ Steve asks, getting up clumsily and taking slow measured steps ahead. He is amazed he can even walk now, his steps so shaky, but it doesn’t matter. ‘You know you lost your chance and now you’re trying to make up for it to satisfy your sick desires. You were a smart man, a scientist, a _soldier_. You could have been so much more,’ Steve lowers his voice the way that the man takes half a step to head Steve’s words better.

There is rage boiling in Skull’s eyes but he doesn’t do anything, just waits as a hunter waits for the prey falls into his deadly grasp.

‘Come on, lay your last punch on _Captain America_ ,’ Steve challenges him, getting into a fighting stance. ‘Come on, you coward,’ the words escape his lips involuntarily and Skull snarls, luging forward, his cloak swishing, and Steve prepares himself mentally for the pain and the impact but the punch never lands on Steve’s jaw – the light flicker and for a fraction of second the room is completely dark – then there is a deafening noise and a beam of light and a second later Steve finds himself moved, someone grabbing his body as if it weighed nothing, dragging him up; Steve is half-blinded by the sudden light but it doesn’t take him long to register the metal fingers curling around his waist, clutching his body almost painfully – and half a second later there is another sound, an explosion, and they shoot up in the sky, surrounded by grey smoke, dust, and microscopic pieces of rubble.

Steve’s heart is beating so fast that it _hurts_ and makes the blood pound heavily in his temples as he coughs, trying to get the dust out of his lungs.

‘Steve, calm down,’ a metallic voice says into his ear firmly. ‘ _Steve,_ calm the fuck down, breathe, calm down, don’t panic, I don’t want to drop you, you are okay, it’s me, Tony, the real Tony, Steve, okay, please, don’t do this to me –’

‘What –’ Steve manages to say between the coughs, trying to wriggle out of the whoevers grasp; the arms are holding him too tightly though. They suddenly fly up, the rush of the cool air almost hurting Steve’s hypersensitive skin, but it gets them out of the smoke and brushes all of the dust off them instantly.

‘It’s all right, Steve, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, we’re okay, calm down and don’t try to make me drop you, it would be painful, please –’ the voice continues, sounding panicked.

‘Shut up,’ Steve manages finally and the words stop.

Suddenly, Steve realizes how quiet it is, completely quiet, dark and _comforting_.

No – none of that feeling. Just an unexpected comforting tranquility.

The greyish cloud of dust starts to settle down far beneath them.

‘Tony?’ Steve whispers, blinking rapidly to clear his vision a bit, it’s still remotely blurry.

‘Hold onto me,’ the voice says and Steve does, subliminally trusting the person. One of the arms lets go of him but he doesn’t fall; then, a second later, the suit’s helmet is off and Steve seen Tony’s worried face, pale and exhausted, nothing like the person that he talked to just a few moments ago.

‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ Steve says, looking at the helmet cradled between Tony’s arm and hip. Tony just shakes his head.

‘I’ll manage, J’s on it,’ he replies weakly.

‘Tony?’ Steve asks again, this time a bit louder. God, his heart is still racing and his hands are sweating and his limbs are all shaky, but Tony’s metal-clad arms wrap around his body firmly and Steve – he knows he won’t fall. He just knows.

‘God, I am sorry, Steve, I am so fucking sorry, I fucked up, it was not supposed – I didn’t think – I was sure I had it nailed but then he –’

‘Now you breathe,’ Steve cuts in, his voice remarkably calm. Whatever happens, he is still Captain America.

‘It’s me, Capsicle, really this time,’ Tony explains, his voice still laces with panic but the words a bit less rushed. ‘Sorry for that, but I had to –’

‘Save that for later,’ Steve interrupts again. ‘Is Red Skull dead?’

‘He is,’ Tony replies with conviction.

Steve inhales deeply and takes in those words, focusing on himself at the same time, trying to find a trace of lie there or anything that wouldn’t match.

But there is nothing.

The feeling of being watched is _gone_ – and  Steve looks down and the city seems to be in chaos. All the cars have stopped, he can tell that much, none of the white and red light-marked vehicles are moving.

Maybe –

– he did it. They did it.

Maybe it’s all right.

‘What about the mind-control?’ he asks because he has nothing to lose, if this is yet another trick then he lost and they won. If it isn’t, then…

‘It was satellite-controlled, Skull had the control device on him, of course, as paranoid as he is – was, I’m not sure if it’s clever or dumb, probably both at the same time, but when we blew him up it was all gone at once.’

‘You blew him up,’ Steve corrects reflexively. Tony grins.

‘No, we did. You started talking to him, right at the end, asking him to punch you, and distracted him enough for me to do what I needed, it was just a little thing but still –’

‘The glass fiber disc?’

‘No, no,’ Tony chuckles nervously. ‘That was a big fat lie, the truth was this, simple, it was a hidden message in Howard’s notes that Skull understood wrong – just like Howard intended – the vibranium does not make the beam stronger, it makes it _work_ , without the beam bouncing off it it’s deadly. That’s what I had to do: take out the disc after Skull put it in and before he hit the button. I was hoping to do that earlier but I didn’t think he would try to… torture you… fuck, Steve, I am so sorry –’

‘Stop this,’ Steve protests, his voice quiet but firm. He feels like he could sleep for thousand years, even in Tony’s grasp high in the air. ‘It doesn’t matter. I have questions to ask you, so many questions, Tony, but the _feeling_ is gone and I trust you because I have no other option left. You will tell me everything later, just… are they okay? Everyone?’

‘I don’t know, probably in pain and understanding that something was wrong and realizing that they’re missing almost two months of their lives but otherwise – they’ll be okay, as far as I can tell. The abruptness of the change probably was tough, but they will be okay.’

‘Oh,’ Steve breathes.

He looks down: there is still a cloud of smoke around Stark Tower, but it’s lower now and therefore colored orange and red and blue, like the city lights, and it looks hauntingly beautiful. Everything else is untouched, clear and sharp, as if nothing has happened.

So easy to believe.

‘We go down. I tell you why and how. I owe you that much. First we have to clean up the Skull’s body.’

‘And the… other Tony?’

‘I know no one believed me before,’ Tony laughs, actually laughs, and his tired eyes light up. ‘But every time I joked about being a life model decoy, you know, it could have been true…’

Steve blinks. Then gapes. Then blinks again.

 _Life-model decoy_ – of course.

This is Tony Stark.

Steve smiles, too, and finally breathes in relief.

 

 

The stay in the air for a few more minutes, just relaxing before another round of duties. Steve can’t stop himself from smiling all that time and Tony does, too, despite everything they’ve been through. They are safe now.

First they go to the tower and examine the explosion site; Tony explains that when the Vita-Ray beam hit Skull there was an impulse that caused the explosion they barely escaped when Tony grabbed Steve and flew him up in the sky. It destroyed both Skull himself, the fake-Tony – it still blows Steve’s mind – and the machine. Probably for the best.

The penthouse it ruined again; it’s fifth time since Loki. Steve wonders if there even is a point in renovating it, but of course Tony will insist on making it even more lavish and extravagant than before. Pepper will calm him down and make JARVIS change the designs into luxurious but practical simplicity that she appreciates. Tony will whine but he will like the design so – okay. _Stop thinking about trivia, soldier_ , he tells himself silently.

The penthouse is ruined and there are… remains of Skull’s body on the floor. Steve feels like throwing up when he sees it, but he somehow manages not to. Tony seems unfazed by all that, but Steve can tell that it’s a mask.

Tony’s eyes are exhausted. Steve still doesn’t have any answers.

‘Let’s go down and check if the people out there are all right,’ Tony suggests when they are sure that Skull _is_ dead this time and that the other Tony’s body, as well as Vita-Ray machine parts, are going to be cleaned up by Tony’s bots.

‘JARVIS couldn’t do anything because I didn’t let him,’ Tony explains when he is landing on the pavement in front of the Tower’s main entrance. ‘It would be suspicious if he didn’t listen to me and I – the other Tony, the decoy – had to listen to Skull…’

‘How does it even work?’ Steve asks, looking around, and notices the whirlwind of activity around all of sudden.

People are very confused, that much is obvious and expected, they are shouting and arguing and some are crying, but no one has answers, no one knows anything. They walk from car to car, from shop to shop aimlessly, trying to figure out where they are and what are they doing and _what is going on_.

Steve feels the nausea in his gut again, when he realizes that it is – it is happening everywhere. To everyone, everyone but him – and Tony.

‘How does that work, that you weren’t –’

‘I made a device,’ Tony offers wearily. His face looks ashen now, his eyes sunken. He must have lost of lot of weight.

He looks tired and _older_.

Steve’s muscles still hurt and he has hard time collecting his thoughts, but he is getting there, God bless the serum.

‘Device?’ Steve asks just as Tony starts walking. People are moving to make way for the two superheroes, glancing at them with awe and curiosity. That is one thing they know, their heroes saving the day. ‘You – you _knew_?’ Steve adds, stopping suddenly.

‘He would have had me, yes, but I made a thing and it worked perfectly. Only you and Thor would be immune to what _he_ came up with, but since Thor wasn’t around… Yes – there are too many people listening to discuss this right now, don’t you think,’ Tony cuts the talk short. Steve nods at him sharply. ‘Want a lift to HQ?’

‘Oh yes,’ Steve agrees and a moment later they are in the air; it’s only three minutes flight to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters from Stark Tower.

When they are in the air Steve notices dusk slowly raising on the west, making the sky slightly brighter and more turquoise. He’d think it a good metaphor for the awakening that everyone’s having down below – if he had any patience for metaphors at the moment.  All he wants is to sleep for the next 24 hours without interruption, without waking up every few minutes because it feels like something or someone is hovering over him.

No such luck.

Steve has never been a lucky person, he knows. The serum didn’t change _that_.

The meetings in HQ are erratic at best; even the secret agency full of trained agents is in disarray at the moment. The whole world is.

Steve can swear he has a headache even though it’s impossible. His life is full of impossible and he is not enjoying that at all.

‘I take it you two got rid of whoever or whatever was fucking with us all?’ Fury greets Steve and Tony, Hill right behind him, followed by Natasha and Clint.

‘Yes, sir. It was – it was Red Skull,’ Steve replies promptly, mechanically straightening his back and holding his chin up, like Peggy drilled into him.

‘Are you fucking sure you’re not joking, Captain?’ Fury asks, but it seems more forced than genuine. Everyone knows Captain America never lies.

‘No, sir. He is… in pieces at the moment,’ he adds and Fury lets out a short bark of laughter.

Clint and Natasha seem somehow amused amidst the confusion.

‘Report,’ Fury orders and sits down by the round table. Everyone follows his example, even Tony  who is still in his suit.

‘I don’t know that much,’ Steve admits, bit doesn’t look away. Fury scrutinizes him with his one eye completely mercilessly. ‘It was almost seven weeks ago, June 14th. I woke up and something felt off,’ Steve starts and describes the first few weeks of the situation, including most of the time he spent in the desert, until his throat is dry and his voice coarse. An agent Steve doesn’t recognize brings him a glass of water; Steve stops for a moment to take a sip. Then he describes everything that has happened since the fake Tony found him in the middle of nowhere, right until when the real Tony grabbed him and flew them both out of the building.

No one cuts in and Steve is not surprised: this is a lot to take in in addition to their own issues – losing seven weeks of their lives to a crazy maniac is just… too much. Steve can’t even imagine. It’s different from being frozen: they lived on; they just didn’t know, what makes it even more of a terrible mess.

‘I guess I should provide the rest of the story now,’ Tony states when Steve is finished. Everyone is staring at Tony, all questions that were Steve’s are in their heads now.

Who. Why. How, how, _how_.

‘I knew. For roughly a year before the whole thing started,’ Tony states and everyone gapes. They are too well-trained for surprised cries, but Steve knows them well enough to know that’s exactly what they would like to do.

A _year_.

‘And I couldn’t tell anyone,’ Tony adds, massaging his temples tiredly.

‘This wasn’t an alien invasion, Stark, it’s not the protocol and you know it –’ Agent Hill starts, but Tony just laughs. It’s deep and dry and makes Steve shiver.

‘I have perfect memory, _Maria_ , I can recite you all your protocols for all kinds of situations, but. They. Wouldn’t. Work. Because you see, you’ve got this super-extra agency with all the great bonuses including unlimited information of any kind – and somehow you managed to miss the one fact that the worst villain of the first half century is alive and plotting – don’t make that face, you can’t outtalk _me_ , so no point in trying – where was I? Ah. Yes. So you didn’t know anything up until half an hour ago. I have my little virtual spies everywhere. I found out what Skull was planning and how far he was already into his plans, and I knew exactly how closely he was observing S.H.I.E.L.D. He wouldn’t risk planting spies here, don’t get your panties in a twist, Fury, but he was observing. From the shadows. All of you, all of us… Blah blah, the crazy stalker thing –’

‘Are you getting somewhere?’ Fury cuts in. Tony scoffs.

Steve just wants him to go on so that he can know all the answers and go to sleep. Which is a bad idea because if he learns all the answers he will have too much to think about and he won’t be able to fall asleep at all.

‘I had more and more pieces every day and when I put the pieces together I understood what he was going to do. But whys are always slimy things with guys like the Skull, they’re crazy, there’s no good rationale for what they do, but I believe it was revenge on Cap. And world domination. That kind of thing. Skull had his goons figure a really good mind-control device that worked via satellites, I will spare you the details, I can debrief the tech teams after I’ve slept. It was half a year ago when I got my hands on the projects and I immediately started to work on the anti-control device. I was _sure_ it would work don’t give me that looks, babies, I was _sure_. The problem was: the only way we could kill him was the way we did: Vita-Ray without vibranium and he would insist on using vibranium. So I came up with this little trick: it was not me when he took control, it was the life-model decoy that he took control of and no, I am not sharing with _anyone_ how I made that, not even if you torture me for ten fucking centuries,’ Tony finally makes pause to take a few deep breaths.

He looks sick to Steve, but then Steve himself feels sick. He just wants to put on warm socks, get some hot milk and read a book. He wants music from the radio and his sketchbooks that he left in his apartment. Just – something normal. Calm and normal.

‘The plan was just this,’ Tony starts anew, making everyone stop murmuring. ‘Send the fake me to Cap, bring him here, let Skull have his gloating time, have the real me make sure all of it works and there is no vibranium in the machine when it’s switched on, kill the bastard. If me and Cap didn’t succeed, no one would and you _know it_. But we managed. So. Mission accomplished.’

‘At what fucking cost,’ Fury snarls. The rest of the team is silent. Agent Hill is fuming. ‘Of course you conveniently don’t know, but it was an excruciating pain when we snapped out of the trance, or whatever you want to call it.’

Natasha and Clint nod reluctantly. Steve _hates_ this.

‘So you just figured that on you own, you can decide about all the fucking _billions_ of people on the planet? That somehow you have the right?’

‘May I remind you that you didn’t fucking know anything, _Nicky_? You would all be fucking rag dolls for god knows how long if I didn’t do what I did. Cap can tell you, right, Cap, Skull was stronger than before, you wouldn’t be able to take him by yourself –’

‘That is right,’ Steve agrees.

‘Besides, what could anyone do? How could anyone help?’ Tony asks, standing up. No one else moves. ‘It was the only way. The only fucking way and no one else was necessary. Even one person acting out what was expected would compromise the whole thing. Skull had too many spies for that. And if my plan was compromised Skull would just disappear and you would never even know and next time he would be better prepared, next time maybe I wouldn’t be able to outsmart him, to figure out his plans, and who knows how it could end. This time we are done. He is dead. Full stop. What else would you like?’

‘Don’t think you are all-mighty,’ Fury shoots back, his voice low and dangerous.

‘I’m a futurist,’ Tony counters. Steve knows that word very well by now and he has to agree with Tony. ‘I anticipate the opponent’s moves months ahead. The game was on for a long time and I’m lucky I realized that half through it and not right at the end. I don’t need you to be grateful, just give me a few days of rest and we can go back to arguing and all the jazz,’ Tony finishes and disappears from the room, exchanging one last look with Steve before walking away. 

‘He saved the world, not me. I just did the right thing in the right time,’ Steve states, standing up. ‘Now, I need some rest. You understand, I hope. I will be in my apartment, if you need me, but give me at least half a day to rest.’

Then Steve leaves, too.

He doesn’t have his shield, it might be somewhere in Stark Tower but he forgot to ask if it’s – still there, if it can be repaired. Probably not. He misses it already.

And he is too tired to even be glad that this whole situation is over.

Fury leaves him a message informing him that everyone is getting a day off to _sort themselves out_ and he’d like to meet Steve tomorrow morning. Steve spends the day trying to sleep, avoiding people, doodling furiously, and taking out his anger on a punching bag in his guest room though his punches are much weaker than normally; his body still feels… stiff, after all the shocks and convulsions. Strange. Detached.

There are official statements in TV, radio, internet, everywhere, about what has happened. Army, government, local authorities, even President speaks. It’s very vague and censored but appropriate for the public: _more information to come…, tomorrow the president…_ , _we don’t know yet…_ They talk and talk, trying to calm down the nation, to calm down the world.

And Steve gladly ignores it all.

He finally manages to fall asleep around ten, only to wake up and four and lay in his bed for another three hours. Workout doesn’t sound tempting. Nothing much sounds tempting, although another twelve hours of sleep would be welcome.

When he finally gets out of the flat, all newspaper headlines scream _Tony Stark – the man who knew_ and _Iron Man, hero or villain?_ and it makes Steve feel like throwing up again.

Back at home he turns on the TV and it’s the same, the same, the same.

Then Steve realizes it is his fault because he asked Tony if he knew out there in the street and Tony said _yes_ and everyone could hear it. At least two dozen people could hear it. Hurt and confused and hateful people are not rational and Steve really, really understands that, but he can’t forgive whoever it was for the _unhelpful_ intervention.

Also, he knows that this whoever told surely got ~~so much~~ a lot of money for that.

Sometimes Steve hates the world.

He doesn’t really have time to think about forgiveness, though, because before he manages to contact Tony, Fury calls him and orders him to get to HQ ASAP; instead of at ten because the President wants to meet with him. When Steve reads the message all he can do is groan with displeasure.

Even if it _is_ a great honor, he is too tired for that. And too confused. Mostly too confused. But he can’t refuse.

There is a jet waiting for him at S.H.I.E.L.D., Clint is piloting, Fury and Hill are onboard, as well as a few agents from the foreign affairs team. Steve doesn’t really talk. To tell the truth, it doesn’t seem as if anyone is interested in talking and Steve is silently thankful for that, he has too much on his mind to try to convert his thoughts into coherent sentences.

Most of the short flight is just him staring at the sun that is shining brilliantly, and trying desperately not to replay yesterday’s events in his head. He fails miserably but it doesn’t stop him from staring at the sun some more and enjoying its strong warmth on his face.

‘It’s good to see you again, Captain,’ the president greets Steve when they are finally in the White house. Everyone here looks as if they didn’t sleep at all last night what is probably a right assumption. ‘We need you again,’ he adds and Steve sighs internally.

‘What can I do for you?’ he asks politely, sitting down by the table where one of the president’s assistants tells him to. Fury and Hill are here, too, but the rest of the agents disappeared somewhere in the meantime and Steve haven’t even noticed.

 _Pull yourself together_ , he orders himself firmly. _It’s not the good time for your… funk_.

‘With the press around the world – the information about Iron Man – we need you for some PR job.’

‘It’s not _information_ , it is _gossip_ , sir’ Steve protests fiercely, ignoring Agent Hill’s warning look. ‘He did know about the plans, but he didn’t try to take over the world or anything –’

‘Calm down, Captain,’ the president says warmly. ‘It’s a mess, but I think I can believe you. The problem is with other people, other countries – they blame us. Some blame Germany, too, since Schmidt was their citizen… So we can’t try to correct everyone right now. You see, there are few billion people in the world who live almost in a different world. Different culture, different history, different expectations… Some people want death sentence for Stark for what he did. Of course it’s ridiculous and even if it would have been better if the conflict was resolved in a different manner, what is done is done. Everyone regards you, Captain, as a hero of this story, and that’s where I need you.’

‘So you want me to do an interview, sir? A press release? A meeting?’

‘I want you to go for a world tour with me,’ the president says, smiling at Steve hopefully. He is playing nice, but Steve knows that there is no saying _no_. ‘We need to talk with s few dozen country leaders and thousands of people, personally, to talk them out of making stupid decisions, because otherwise this might end in a war.’

‘I understand, sir,’ Steve relied tonelessly. ‘When do we leave?’

‘In two hours,’ the president states, glancing at his watch. ‘Thank you for cooperation, Captain,’ he adds and leaves the room, two people in black suits scrambling to keep pace with him.

‘But I don’t have my things,’ Steve protest, talking to no one in particular, then glances at Fury and Hill who are engaged in a conversation with another man dressed in black. Steve has been too distracted to notice any of them moving.

‘We’ve got your spare suit, Rogers, and the rest you can get later,’ Fury tells him, not even tuning his head around.

 

 

That’s how Steve finds himself in Air Force One flying to Japan with the president’s entourage and Nick Fury. The food is great and everyone here seems to be eager to talk with Steve or ask for autographs. He smiles, does small talk, smiles some more, eats, gives autographs.

Tony doesn’t pick up when Steve calls.

When they arrive to Tokyo, three of the president’s body guards take Steve to a luxurious department store when he buys himself some clothes and other items that he needs. It’s difficult to find things his size that fit nicely but they somehow manage, even if it takes a long time. Steve thanks the shopping assistants warmly even though he hates the clothes, he hates that they are new and unnecessary, but he knows better than to protest.

He has to wear Captain America’s clothes to the public meetings but he’s allowed to stay in a normal suit for the visits to government facilities. Wearing the blue costume out of battlefield makes him feel like the dancing monkey he was back in 40s, but wearing a three piece suit, still scented like foil, lavender and newness, is even more uncomfortable. He doesn’t feel like himself at all.

There is one good moment though: Steve buys a nice moleskine to sketch in and a great set of pencils, but he still misses the half-filled _The Invisible Man_ from his Penguin notebook collection irrationally.

Meetings go fast, one by one, Steve smiles and smiles some more when he needs; he acts solemn and serious when he needs, too. The president forbids him from talking too much about Iron Man and how he was right because it’s a sore spot. Steve says all good things about America and then spends half of each night drawing a comic that is basically a caricature of everyone and everything that happens.  

After Japan there is South Korea, China, India, the Middle East, Europe, Africa, South America and Australia at the end.

It’s full twenty four days before they are back. Tony doesn’t answer any of Steve’s calls, but Clint texts Steve a few times and says he has seen Tony and that he is doing _all right, all things considered_. The days fly by and Steve doesn’t manage to keep track of all the people he talks with, shakes hands with, poses for a photo with.

The urge to talk with Tony is burning a gaping hole in Steve’s gut.

At least the world loves Captain America and believes his words, Steve doesn’t know why but they do, so a global conflict is averted and everyone slowly goes back to their lives as they were _before_.

 

 

Back in New York, the first thing Steve does is get an ice cream. It’s mid-September now, last days of summer, warm and amazing even though the sun doesn’t raise that high anymore and the nights are getting cold.

Then he goes to meet with Tony who, strangely, is in the Tower and invites Steve up. The penthouse is already in perfect condition.

‘Congratulations on saving world peace,’ he greets Steve with a grin. ‘It would be a waste if my bad press managed at annihilate all my attempts at privatizing it.’

Tony is still exhausted and still too pale, Steve notices but doesn’t comment. Tony has never liked people _mother-henning_ him, as he puts it.

‘That would be bad,’ Steve agrees, grinning slightly. ‘I called you so many times, why didn’t you answer?’ the words slip out of his mouth before he manages to stop himself. Damn. He wanted to try to be subtle.

‘Because you’d be apologetic and tearful and I can’t bear ninety years old teenagers,’ Tony explains is if it were obvious.

‘But you let me in anyway, despite knowing that I will apologize –’

‘You’ll make those puppy eyes of yours, being completely cute,’ Tony cuts in, smirking. Steve can feel his ears reddening a bit. ‘I wouldn’t see them via phone. You see. Cute beaten puppy – apology accepted.’

‘But I didn’t even –’ Steve starts, following Tony into the kitchen area, but he is interrupted again.

‘Better that way – no, seriously, Steve, please drop the matter. Let it go. I don’t care. Please don’t do that for me. Oh, and did you start your day with all-American half-marathon around Manhattan? Want something to eat?’

‘No, thanks.’ Steve says politely. He had a breakfast on the plane, before the ice cream. ‘And for the record, I hate running.’

‘You hate… you hate running?  How is that even possible?’

‘I cycle,’ Steve clarifies, taking a glass of juice that Tony almost presses into his hand.

‘How sweet,’ Tony mocks, pouring himself some of the juice, too, and drowning it in one go.

‘Are you okay?’ Steve finally asks, feeling slightly awkward. Sure, he has known Tony for over two years now, but they are not very close. Teammates – yes, colleagues – yes, but that’s all. They are so completely different. Steve still doesn’t know half of the time what Tony is talking about.

‘Yeah, just peachy,’ Tony assures him with a smile. Steve returns.

They are both faking it.

 

 

Steve finds out a few weeks later.

The days are filled with routine that Steve is incredibly happy to be part of again. There is a pleasant comfort in it: it’s going back to something old, established, a complete opposite of the hectic life that seems to be happening all around.

He fills with drawings and doodles the half of his _The Invisible Man_ and one third of _A Room of One’s Own_ ; the color of the cover is great. It’s the last notebook from that set.

One day he goes to visit Tony and brings him ice cream. It’s soft and melting by the time Steve arrives at the Tower, but Tony eats it eagerly and makes some joke Steve doesn’t get, but ultimately decides that it’s really good. Steve beams.

It’s a simulacrum of normalcy, a simulacrum of a relationship.

The next night he decides that he wants to ask Tony a few questions about the time – during the mind control. They have been conveniently silent about those events since Steve’s return to the US, but Steve’s conscience keeps bugging him. He knows Tony hasn’t talked about it with anyone.

And Tony doesn’t answer his calls again.

‘Sir is not home,’ JARVIS says.

The other night sir is not there either, and the next, and the next.

Steve knows he shouldn’t put his nose into others’ business, but he is… worried about Tony, he realizes. The whole story would mess up _anyone_ and Tony was right in the middle of it. For a year. Acting. For. A. Year.

So Steve comes to the Tower earlier and notices Tony’s black Audi driving out of the garage, at ten p.m. sharp, and disappearing in the traffic.

It repeats every second night. The third time Steve tries to follow the car but it doesn’t seem to go anywhere in particular. That is, until it takes a highway exit and accelerates rapidly, leaving Steve on his bike far behind.

JARVIS is always eager to inform Steve that _Sir is not home_.

Finally, Steve decides to just wait until the car comes back.

It’s back at five a.m. Steve sneaks into the garage, JARVIS would stop him if he didn’t want Steve to know what it’s all about. That only makes Steve more worried and that makes his head even more of a mess. He’s been such an unsure and confused thing recently and no amount of sketching or working out seems to help. Steve can only imagine how Tony must feel like.

Steve waits a moment, but the doors don’t open, so he comes up to the car and looks inside What he sees makes him freeze: Tony is sleeping in the backseat with his legs curled up. He is wearing a hoodie and sweats, no shoes, no socks, the hood half over his head.

There is no one else inside what means JARVIS has been driving the car.

‘How long has Tony been doing that?’ Steve asks JARVIS quietly, knowing that the A.I. will understand his words.

‘Since five days after the events involving Red Skull,’ JARVIS offers. That’s… almost two and a half months of sleeping in a car instead of one of at least twelve beds that Steve knows are in the Tower. He doesn’t have to ask why five days after, that’s pretty clear: insomnia. Five days without sleeping is too much, Tony must have figured out what would help and accepted this strange way to fool himself into believing he is okay.

Steve leaves Tony sleeping in the car and sneaks out of the garage asking JARVIS not to tell Tony anything. The A.I. agrees; he has known Steve long enough to know that whatever Steve might come up with will be for his Sir’s benefit.

 

 

The evening two days later Steve is ready.

He gives the keys to his apartment to his lovely neighbor who doesn’t realize he is Captain America, and says he is leaving to visit his family for a few weeks. He asks Rose to water his plants and she says she will be happy to.

The backpack if filled with some clothes, art supplies, current sketchbook and a spare notebook, a couple of books – and a box filled with homemade energy bars, the same that Steve remembers from when he was a kid, made mostly of oats, raisins and powdered milk.

‘Hello,’ he says when Tony sneaks into the garage, this time wearing black cotton trousers and a t-shirt with a globe and Stark Industries logo. Tony freezes, locates the voice’s source and stares at Steve as if he was an alien.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asks finally, taking a step back and wrapping arms on his chest. Steve feels a pang of guilt for making Tony feel defensive. ‘JARVIS, what did I tell you about calling –’

‘You don’t answer my phone calls again and you led me to believe that you were okay. Doing better,’ Steve cuts in. ‘And JARVIS didn’t inform me of anything, I’ve been trying to catch you to talk for some time and I noticed the car. I followed it my own. Sorry. I was just worried – Tony, you could have said something was bothering you.’

‘So what, you could come and moralize?’ Tony asks, taking yet another step back. The floor is concrete. His feet must be cold.

‘No. I thought I would ask questions. But that can wait,’ Steve tells him and pauses for a moment. ‘Uh… remember that one time in Texas when I helped you with that insane guy?’ Tony nods. ‘You owe me one for that, right?’

‘Yeah,’ Tony agrees, biting his lip. ‘You saved my life. Kind of.’

‘Yeah – so can you tell me what is bothering you? And we’ll be even?’

‘So that’s the price for a life? My tearful confession?’

‘Yes,’ Steve confirms without a second of hesitation. Tony narrows his eyes and moves his hand to play unconsciously with the Reactor, taping some melody Steve doesn’t recognize on the surface. It takes him a full minute to decide.

‘Okay,’ he replies finally and leans against the car. ‘You know, all that time with Red Skull, I spent it sitting in a tiny closed space, making no sound, trying to pretend I am not there. I had to be close, so I was a few blocks away from the tower, but I couldn’t let him know. It was full of tension and tiring and… the whole word felt _static_ because all that was happening was pre-planned, and then I couldn’t sleep because despite the anti-control device I knew he was trying to crawl into my head ever single second. It was calm and quiet all the time and then – then I couldn’t sleep. Music didn’t help, here in the tower. I found out that I need to… that  white noise helps. And the movement, mostly the movement. It lulls me to sleep.’

‘I was expecting something like that,’ Steve admits, getting up from the floor and picking up his backpack. Tony sighs.

‘JARVIS has been driving me around,’ he adds, running a hand through his neat hair.

‘I am pretty sure that’s illegal…’ Steve wonders. Tony gives him a _so what_ look.

‘You know I don’t care,’ Tony scoffs. ‘Besides, no worries, he’s the best at _everything_ –’

His arms are too thin, Steve suddenly decides. Too pale. He looks… broken underneath all the cockiness, you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for it. Tony is too good at everything he is doing including lying.

Steve could draw Tony like this, he thinks. Or make several book references to lonesome and melancholic fools who think they can confront the world by themselves.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Tony whines, eying Steve suspiciously. ‘I’m okay, I’m good. You do know I don’t sleep normally anyway, Capsicle –’

‘Why do I get to be the adult here?’ Steve asks himself aloud, sighing theatrically. ‘I know and I don’t like it and _you_ know it. Now get in the car.’

‘Get in the – _what_?

‘Tony,’ Steve says walking up to the man until he is two steps away. ‘That whole misadventure with Red Skull – I’m sorry for it. Let me say this. Don’t interrupt me for once, please… He was after me more than he was after the world and you got involved in this mess at such cost, I would never dare to ask that much of you, but you did it anyway. Before I even knew. In secret. For _months_. I – that was something incredible. You are incredible. And now everyone is angry at you for saving their lives… The media are unjustly cruel and I _hate_ that I can’t really do much and… I can tell you screw them, they will come around. They will. But in the meantime, I don’t want you to deal with this mess by yourself. You are going to say it was a necessary sacrifice and maybe that is true, but I’ve been a fool to leave you alone to deal with it for so long,’ Steve takes a breath. Then he smiles. ‘So, you are taking some time off. Now get in the car, please?’

‘What?’ Tony repeats again, coking his head and staring at Steve as if he has two heads all of sudden.

‘I will drive. You will sleep. JARVIS was nice enough to read my mind like he usually does and packed your luggage,’ Steve explains to stunned Tony, pointing at the leather suitcase waiting innocently by the wall. ‘We can go to Kansas or Canada or California, heck, we can go to Cape Horn if that’s what we’ll need –’

‘You need a passport to cross the border,’ Tony says in the all-knowing voice. Steve rolls his eyes.

‘They would let me. I am Captain America. I’ve got the suit in the backpack.’

‘But I am an unofficial international villain –’

‘I can hide you is the trunk.’ ~~~~

‘They check trunks, Cap.’

‘Do you really thing they would check Captain America’s trunk?’ Steve asks, raising one eyebrow and making an innocent face. Tony considers.

‘Point taken,’ he decides and slumps his shoulder a bit. ‘So we go, I don’t know, just like that? ‘Steve nods. ‘Okay,’ Tony decides and opens the car door. ‘Thank you.’

‘It’s okay,’ Steve assures Tony, grabbing the suitcase and tossing it into the boot together with his backpack.

‘You are too nice to be a real human being,’ Tony tells him, still leaning against the car. ‘How do I repay you?’

And then Steve decides, this time consciously and deliberately, to do something stupid and possibly make the biggest mistake of his life but – the hell with it. If he doesn’t take the risk, he will never know.

‘How – how about a kiss?’ he asks almost stuttering, but at least he manages no to blush.

‘My favorite currency,’ Tony agrees easily, even though Steve can still read surprise in curiosity in his eyes. Tony walks up to him and brushes Steve’s lips with his; they are warm and moist and lovely, he smells like vanilla and something Steve cannot quite place, but it vaguely reminds him of something good. ‘The rest in next installment,’ Tony says before disappearing inside the car.

 _So much thinking to do now, soldier_ , Steve tells himself and grins, then he gets into the car, too. The engine purrs perfectly and Steve can feel a shiver running down his spine. It feels like this is going to be the best road trip in the history of humanity. He has this resolve to make beatnik’s trips pale in comparison.

Steve doesn’t mind that half of the adventure will be picking up broken pieces.

 

 

The city streets seem bright compared to the darkness above the ocean. It is ten to eleven p.m. and Tony, who is sitting in the back, looks like he is already dozing off. Steve opens the window to let the warm night-scented air fill the car – smells like fuel, resin and salt – and breathes it in deeply.

Driving down New York City streets is a story on its own.

‘So, is this all America is nowadays? Big cars, neons, country music, action movies, endless supermarket aisles filled with cereal?’ Steve murmurs a few more miles into the trip, as always realizing too late that he has just verbalized his thoughts. He definitely thinks too much and has too little self-control, but at least Tony is –

‘No, Captain Melancholia, it’s also guns, teeth whitening and peanut butter,’ Tony supplies quietly from the back and laughs softly. Oops. So Tony is _not_ sleeping.

But Steve can’t help himself and cracks a smile, too. _Captain_ _Melancholia_ is just about right.

‘Don’t forget superheroes,’ he adds seriously, glancing at Tony’s reflection in the front mirror. ‘Like _both_ of us.’

‘And superheroes,’ Tony repeats, nodding approvingly.

That sounds just about right.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> This was my first challenge ever and a lot of fun, I hope you enjoyed the story :)


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